<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 by nerd_nope</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27604478">𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerd_nope/pseuds/nerd_nope'>nerd_nope</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Velvet (K-pop Band), SHINee, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, Light Angst, M/M, Magic-Users, Multi, Post-War, World War II</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:28:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27604478</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerd_nope/pseuds/nerd_nope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌 𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖗<br/>𝑶𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍-𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒚, 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚! 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆, 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒆 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕, 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓. 𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔. 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆, 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑴𝒓. 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌 𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒇𝒇 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒔, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒚.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Park Sooyoung | Joy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ~ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>        𝕸any people say spring is the most favorable season of the four for its blooms and life, but I've never been too fond of it. Jung Manor has always looked like a haunted house built by the devil himself in winter, Yeonja, the old housekeeper, tells me. Maybe it's because a part of me loves the look on peoples' faces when I walk towards them, my presence enough to scare them; or perhaps the fact that my great-grandfather had a knack for old vampire stories, maybe even wished he was a vampire himself, that he built this house to look like something out of a Dracula picture, but I enjoy the silence. Mother used to say people would've been less intimidated by me if I weren't as tall and just a little less attractive, but I wouldn't consider myself too handsome, maybe passable at best to the girls at The Bar, (ironically, that's its real name, The Bar); Yeonja says if she weren't widowed with grown sons, she would have thrown the little respect she had left aside and married me. What a funny little woman.</p><p>        Yeonja likes to pester me with jokes all day, no matter how many times I try to scare her off into doing something else. She's probably the only person here that doesn't avoid me like the plague and part of me is grateful for that. I'll admit, sometimes she goes a little too overboard at the wrong times, but I've always thought of her as a replacement of my mother. She says it's because she's used to handling rowdy boys that think they're all cool and edgy; I just laugh at the thought. In a way, she reminds me scarily of my mother; the same strict frown, the same corny jokes, the same worn hands. They used to be friends when they were younger but both ended up going their different paths and meeting up at a ball a few years and regrets later. Mother was pregnant with me and married, while Yeonja was said to have ran off with a boy only to come back as someone else. They say mother somehow brought back the Yeonja they used to know.</p><p> </p><p>It's funny how she tastes like mother, too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒊𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"𝕵oy, dear, come downstairs, please." I hear mother call from the sitting room. Standing up from the unfinished and quite amateurly made sweater I was just sewing, I rush downstairs.</p><p> </p><p>"What is it, mother?"</p><p> </p><p>"Have a seat, there's someone I would like you to meet." She says, gesturing to the tiny man sitting across from her. He's got quite a cute build, looking tiny next to father in his spot, the sleeves of his pitch black suit slightly floppy, almost as if he's borrowing an older brother's. I give him a quick bow and sit down next to mother, smoothing my skirt.</p><p> </p><p>"Miss Joy Park, I presume? Your mother has told me a lot about you and I simply can't say I'm not pleased to meet you."</p><p> </p><p>"How can you say you've met me when you haven't even introduced yourself, sir?" I scoff; the man blushes, fidgeting with one of the rings on his small fingers.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, please forgive me. My name is Min Yoongi, and I'm here on behalf of Mr. Jung Hoseok. I'm assuming you know who he is?"</p><p> </p><p>"Of course, sir, everyone's heard of the honorably discharged general who singlehandedly brought countless countries to peace! To what could I possibly owe the pleasure of?"</p><p> </p><p>"You see, Miss Joy, Master Hoseok has sent me to, rather boldly, if you ask me, request you meet him this Wednesday, at Jung Manor." My jaw drops, and I momentarily decide manners mean nothing at this moment. Jung Hoseok, request to meet me, a tailor's daughter? What on earth would he speak to me about? Mr. Yoongi only chuckles, as if he hasn't just asked me to meet one of the most esteemed and respected men in the entire country of Korea.</p><p> </p><p>"I understand if you would like to decline but Master Hoseok expressed that he was quite excited to get to speak to you."</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>Wednesday arrives all too quickly and I’m spared no peace. Mother and I spend the entirety of Tuesday shopping for dresses, passing out from exhaustion as soon as we come home. Mr. Min said Mr. Jung would prefer I come alone, much to father’s chagrin, and mother’s been panicking ever since he came, the poor thing worrying I’ll make a fool of myself and ultimately her and father. Of course she would, I’m only meeting the most respected and rich man in all of Korea, so no worries!</p><p> </p><p>“Oh god, I’m a mess”, is the only thing going through my mind as Yeri, my maid, ties the ribbon on my dress. I’ll admit, it’s pretty, all sparkly and silver, but I feel sweaty and clammy, probably even shaking.</p><p> </p><p>“Lord, Joy, I can’t imagine what you’d do if I weren’t here right now! Quit trembling, you’ll ruin your hair!” She tuts, snatching the bottle of perfume from my hands and setting it on the desk.</p><p> </p><p>“Probably crying in the closet with the lights off, ha.” Yeri only rolls her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you so nervous for, anyways? It’s not like he’s asking you to marry him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeri!” I smack her arm, feeling my cheeks warm despite the cold winter air.</p><p> </p><p>“What?! I’m not wrong!”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s the former commander of the army, why wouldn’t I be shaking?!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not like you’re a soldier, are you? Now hold still and shut up, I need to do your lipstick.”</p><p> </p><p>~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Mr. Min finally arrives, at around noon, I've accepted that today might go in two ways: either Mr. Jung will end up thinking I'm not as much as a mess as I think I am and invite me over again, or he'll think I'm borderline crazy and never want to see me again. That is, if he wants to see me at all or just wants to build relations with my mother's family. Although my father is seen as just a stupid baker trying to build a life for us, that isn't the whole story. Mother ran away from her family when she was my age, around 23 years old, to marry father. Considering the fact that her family is one of the richest in this province, (gotta love living in the middle of nowhere in Daegu), people say going to college in Seoul was a waste of time for her. I disagree though; she could easily rival those old geezers at the club who spend hours playing chess for no apparent reason.</p>
<p>During the hour long ride, Mr. Min and I don't talk much. I ask him why Mr. Jung wants to see me, he tells me he can't say. He asks me what I think of the war happening in Europe and I simply reply that I'm not supposed to talk about war and politics because I'm a woman. He only chuckles and goes back to reading a newspaper. I almost fall asleep, feeling like it's been a day instead of an hour, when I'm disrupted by Mr. Min setting down his newspaper more loudly than he needs to. I notice he looks like he's about to start yelling, the same way most men with anger issues do when someone says no to them, and says the most peculiar thing.</p>
<p>"These white men will be the death of us."</p>
<p>At that moment, I decide to look at the headline, maybe that's why he seems so mad?</p>
<p>"Bombing in Pearl Harbor, US Congress is yet to respond", it says.</p>
<p>"Uh...Mr. Min?"</p>
<p>"Hm?"</p>
<p>"What happened? You seem upset about something." He only chuckles, glancing out of the carriage like he doesn't know what to say.</p>
<p>"The world is a mess right now."</p>
<p>"Oh."</p>
<p>"Ah, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so gloomy right now."</p>
<p>"Oh no, it's okay, Sir. Sometimes I sneak newspapers from stalls and end up having to go outside from frustration."</p>
<p>"Really? That seems unladylike." I hold back a groan; who cares about what's "ladylike" or not when we're talking about genocide?!</p>
<p>"I find it rather amusing that a man would think to define what a lady should do, with all due respect."</p>
<p>"Ah, I apologize if I came of like that. I assure you, my intentions were never to do so, I hoped to lighten the mood a little, considering the fact that the only conversation we've had in the past hour has been about a war."</p>
<p>"I see. It's okay, Sir, but please do keep that in mind."</p>
<p>"Of course. Perfect timing, I must say. Ms. Joy, we have arrived at Jung Manor."</p>
<p>Mr. Min helps me out of the carriage and I step out to see nothing short of a castle; towers spiral up to the sky, towering above the rest of the manor. Flowers lay in rows in the garden he shows me, having noticed my fascination for them.</p>
<p>The inside is just as, if not more, marvelous than the outside, the foyer probably worth more than everything in our own house. (Remember, we might be rich ourselves but Jung Hoseok is the richest man in the country.) Multiple awards are hung on the wall in a frame, some from the military and some from colleges he's attended. Expensive-looking vases hold flowers that smell too good to be real, and it finally hits me that I'm treating this place more like a museum than a house. Mr. Min and I sit down i what looks to be a sitting room just for visitors, maids and other workers bustling about.</p>
<p>"So, Mr. Min, when exactly will Mr. Jung be here?"</p>
<p>"He told me he'd be out for a little bit when I left; he always does this, going out when he has guests over," he shakes his head, sighing almost like father does when I don't listen to him telling me to stop going on the roof, "I'll go ask someone. Wait here, please." Instead of making it clear to everyone here that I'm so nervous I might run out the front door, I resort to staring at the ground.</p>
<p>"Uh-Excuse me, Miss. Would you like something to drink? I could get you tea really quickly." A maid asks me, coming out of nowhere.</p>
<p>"No thank you, I already ate before I left."</p>
<p>"O-Okay, no problem. Please let me know if you do later!" She squeaks, hurrying out of the room like I'll eat her if she doesn't. It's nothing like I'm used to, Yeri never hesitates to force me to eat no matter how much I try to tell her I don't feel like eating.</p>
<p>The sound of footsteps startles me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Mr. Min.</p>
<p>"Hoseok will be here in a few minutes, it turns out he went for a walk half and hour ago and got lost in his own backyard. Honestly, if he weren't my boss, I'd have kept him on a leash." He says, sitting down next to me.</p>
<p>"Really? That sounds..."</p>
<p>"Stupid, isn't it? The man manages to get two degrees from the most prestigious college in Seoul and can't find his way out of his own backyard."</p>
<p>"Ah, Yoongi, I'm hurt that you think that." A voice booms, none other than the man himself, Jung Hoseok.</p>
<p>~</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Yoongi, I'm hurt you that you think that." A voice booms, none other than the man himself, Jung Hoseok. </p><p>Despite the fact that I'm not the one who practically insulted the Jung Hoseok, I can tell I'm blushing like a tomato right now.</p><p>"Ah, Miss Park,” Hoseok bows, “my sincerest apologies for being late. I hope my tardiness will be of no offense?”</p><p>“Oh, none taken, sir! It’s truly an honor to meet you!” Hoseok chuckles, an endearing thing, if I must say so. Rumors fly no matter where they are, one being that Jung Hoseok is a magical man. Whether it be his devilishly handsome looks or his voice that sings like silk, no one can help but fall for him. Strangely, however, he’s never seemed to reciprocate those feelings for anyone. A part of me foolishly believes I might be able to change that; I wouldn’t disagree that I’ve certainly stooped to the level of my fantasies being about him. </p><p>As Mr. Jung shows me around the manor, I can’t help but think about what it would be like to live here, not as a guest, but a lover. </p><p>Stop getting your hopes up, idiot! why would someone like the Jung Hoseok like you? </p><p>Eventually, I gather the confidence to ask him what’s been in my mind for the past two days.</p><p>“I was wondering when you might ask me that, funny enough. That is a question I shall indeed answer, but not at this exact moment.” That’s certainly an answer. Not the one I was hoping for, but definitely an answer. </p><p>“But-“</p><p>“Patience, my dear. I would rather we discuss this in the presence of your parents.” Who does this man think I am, a child? </p><p>~</p><p>As the sun begins to set, I can’t help but feel more and more uncomfortable in my dress, it clinging to my body in the heat and I’m not aware of if I look like a fool with smudged makeup. If so, Mr. Jung seems to not mind. </p><p>“So, Ms. Park, is there anything that may have piqued your interest in this house? Perhaps a painting, furniture?” What a peculiar question. </p><p>“Actually, yes.”</p><p>“May I ask what that might be?”</p><p>“In the painting on the wall, right at the top of the staircase, I noticed it depicts what one might assume is a married couple in love. I did, too, but then I looked closely and saw that the woman in it seemed rather... uncomfortable. She placed her fan on her left cheek and from what I remember of my etiquette lessons, that means rejection.”</p><p>“My, you seem to have an eye for details, Ms. Park. That particular painting is a portrait of my late mother and father,” so that’s why the figures seemed so familiar. “and what I’d describe as their interesting way of showing love for each other.”</p><p>“Oh? Do elaborate, if you don’t mind.”</p><p>“Well, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that my mother was not in favor of marrying my late father, which was also shown in the picture with the fan, as you noticed. My father was notorious for being carefree and didn’t give much thought about commitment. Mother, on the other hand, used to fret about little things and was an outright prim and proper little lady that beloved father would give everything for their relationship, despite her own displeasure.” Mr. Jung pauses, as if thinking about his late parents pains him. I personally don’t know if what the ladies in town speak of is true, but it’s been going around for ages that Jung Hoseok had not the best relationship with him father. </p><p>“I tend to not dwell on it for too long, but it has recently reached my ear that people talk of sending proposals to me, giving their daughters’ hand in marriage. Surely you know what I mean to say next, Ms. Park.” </p><p>I begin to put the pieces together and it makes sense, why we received an invitation from Jung Manor so abruptly, why mother said it was imperative I make a good impression on Mr. Jung, all of it. I hadn’t noticed it before, but when I speak, my voice is scratchy and pained, evident that tears form in my eyes.</p><p>“Did mother and father accept money from your hand?” Mr. Jung remains silent, as if he’s able to understand what it feels like to be a means of gaining respect without one’s permission.</p><p>“With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I believe I have the right to know what my worth is as a bargaining chip.”</p><p>“I did not ask for your hand for the reasons you think, Ms. Park. I-“</p><p>“Tell me how much they bargained me for.”</p><p>“One million.” </p><p>The silence after he speaks is uncomfortable with Mr. Jung just watching me as I break down, finally decided I don’t care about looking pretty and releasing a gut-wrenching sob. Call me naive, seeing as there’s only one reason a girl’s parents would set her up with a man, but I had always thought it would be different for me. That I would have the freedom to choose my lover like mother. That I wouldn’t be sold to a man with no haste, his age not a matter, only his prestige and the number of figures in his bank account. </p><p>“Sooyoung, please listen to what I have to say.”</p><p>“What exactly is there to say, Mr. Jung?”</p><p>“Please, call me Hoseok. We’re both aware of the fact that there is no use for formalities.”</p><p>“Please, do tell me then, Hoseok, what exactly do you have left to say? Because I only have one thing to say to you.”</p><p>“Enlighten me.”</p><p>“I was delusional.”</p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“I‘ll retire to my room, then. Goodnight. You needn’t have spent one million on someone like me and waste it.” I mumble, hurrying up the towering stairs, ignoring Hoseok’s voice calling my name. The cawing of crows really sets the mood for my grief, almost like a funeral. The funeral of my freedom. 

</p><p>I guess I better start getting used to this life, now. </p><p>~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1K WORDS HECK YEAH !!</p><p>i’m back from whatever the he|| my post test stress-induced hibernation was</p><p>i have so many ideas for stories.,,.,,oh my god if i weren’t cursed with laziness yall would be begging me not to update so much </p><p>neways i hope this makes up for said-stress-induced hibernation !!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so i'm not the best at timelines and accuracy with age and all so here<br/>irene is the oldest in this story, she's 3 years older than hobi so she's 35<br/>hobi is 32<br/>minho is a year younger than her in this story because reasons (they're a few months apart, he was born in december and she was in march so yeah) so he's 34<br/>joy is two years younger than hoseok so she's 30<br/>wannie (wendy) is the same age as hobi, a few months older so she's 32<br/>seulgi is a few days older than wannie but for the sake of this fic and the dynamics she's 26 here (irl she's the same age as wannie and hobi but screw that)<br/>yeri is 25 for the sake of this story<br/>im aware that this story takes place during ww2 ok Ay this is a story about magic, screw accuracy</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>𝕿he next week is probably the most awkward time of my life. Each day goes by without notice, colorlessly. Mother sent my clothes from home along with a letter; it sits on my table just as it was when I first received it. Out of the five stages of grief, it seems that I sped right to acceptance rather than try and deny my fate. After all, what’s the use? I’ve been damned in this manor until the day I die, whether I like it or not. Part of me, the small voice that edges me to explore rather than go about in the garden or stay in my little room all day, believes that if I give enough effort I can make this work. Hoseok seems keen on getting me to co-operate with him and the only thing I’ve been doing is mourning the loss of my freedom. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I start the day with a single goal in mind: make this relationship work. If I’m to be stuck here for the rest of my life, I might as well attempt to be happy. The maid (whose name I found out is Seulgi) helps me get dressed for once and as I head down to the breakfast table, I take my time to admire the paintings on the staircase wall seeing as I never really did when I first arrived here. This mansion is truly a work of art, something out of a painting by Da Vinci himself, perhaps. The lush greens in the garden are a perfect backdrop for the bright and sweet-smelling flowers, each a different color. Towering windows are on every few walls, letting us take a glimpse of the sky above although we're inside. Inside the manor, however, is a scene more melancholic than its outside. Gothic gates lead the way to an inside filled with furniture fit for a castle (if that's not what one could describe this structure as), delicate golden trimmings adorning the walls. During the past week I've spent here, I've gotten acquainted with the staff and managed to find my way around the many staircases and rooms. Hoseok seems surprised that I finally show up for breakfast today and I scold myself for hiding from a feeling remnant of the Sunday mornings I used to spend helping father at his shops, all so familiar and warm. Comforting. Like the thought of biding my time with people I've looked up to since I was a little girl. During this mediating thought process, I decide striking a conversation with my now husband wouldn't be too bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is breakfast always this good? I can hardly believe something like this would be an everyday thing." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, of course it is! Joohyun, the head cook, has been working here ever since I was a young boy and I can't say that her pancakes don't make me want to sing like a cheesy Julie Andrews movie." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I can tell from the powdered sugar above your lip." I giggle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a flamboyant answer. He's thirty-two but acts like he's still a little five-year-old boy. It's quite endearing. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oops, I didn't notice!" Hoseok laughs, a warm sight that melts my heart. Everyone knows Jung Hoseok is a loving man, despite his brooding exterior. It's also obvious, something only a fool would miss; everything about him is shaped like a heart, his hair, his ears, his smile! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I guess I was the fool here for not hearing him out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um...Hoseok?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What is it? Oh dear, did is there syrup on my lips?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No." I chuckle, "I wanted to ask you about your side of the story. The other day, when we first met, I realize I never heard you out. I apologize for that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sooyoung, you don't have to apologize. If I were you, I would've slapped me! I guess I do owe you an explanation, though." The room goes silent for a bit until Hoseok suddenly stands up, pushing his chair in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Sooyoung, but I realize I'm terribly late for a meeting with a friend of mine, my sincerest apologies. Shall we continue this when I return?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, dear. If you need anything while I'm gone, you can ask Joohyun, she's usually free to help. Is that alright, Joohyun?" He calls, looking over his shoulder as he buttons his coat. The woman at the stove who I presume to be Joohyun nods silently, not looking up from whatever she's mixing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, I'll see you when I come back at around three pm! Feel free to explore, I don't think you've seen the west wing. Minho can show you around, I'm sure you'll like it!" And with that, Hoseok is gone. Maybe I will explore some more today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After breakfast, I decide to explore the west wing like Hoseok told me to. At least, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'm in the west wing although I can't really remember. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should look around some more, I might be able to figure out where the west wing is.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>I prevail no success, though, only stumbling into a confused Seulgi while she does the laundry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ma'am, are you looking for something?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sort of..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can help you! Just give me a second please," Seulgi sets down the dress she was drying and walks away to the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Wannie, can you finish the laundry while I help the Missus?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure!" A voice yells back from outside; Seulgi looks back at me with a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, Ma'am! What exactly were you looking for?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I was trying to explore the west wing because Hoseok said he didn't know if I had seen it yet. He told me to look for Minho, who would show me around but I seemed to have gotten lost..." I feel myself blush as I look down in embarrassment, finding it ironic because I'm the mistress of this house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, that's alright Ma'am! I get lost half the time here jus' trying to find my own uniform! I keep telling Wannie not to mix it in with the other ones 'cause the soap hurts my skin but...oh, right! I think I know where Minho might be! Jus' follow me, Ma'am!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Seulgi, you know you don't have to call me 'Ma'am,' right? Just call me Sooyoung." She looks back at me, tilting her head out of curiosity, perhaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're a funny one, y'know that, Ma'am? I can't call you by your real name, none of us maids can. That's for the Mister of this house only. It's an intimate thing, I think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyways, Minho is 'prolly out in the gardens, he usually is. He really loves those 'lil flowers of his, all those cute 'lil petunias and roses and tulips. Mister Jung says to let him take care of them all he wants since they're the only thing we can hear him talk to. Ah, they never talk, Minho and Joohyun. It's like they don't know how to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh? Why is that?" I ask, climbing down the staircase, simply following Seulgi.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well...When Mister Jung's mother found Minho and Joohyun, they were young thieves, little children they were. She found them at the 'ol railway station, all grubby and scared. Mister Jung says Joohyun was about six years old, almost three years older than him. Minho was five, only a year younger than Joohyun. She raised 'em all as her children even though only Mister Jung was her kin, and they grew up to take care of this house and the Jung family. After Ma'am Jung passed, they stopped talking to us all. Speak of the devil, Minho! There you are!" She yells, running over to a man tending to the rose bushes. He looks up, clearly surprised to see her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Minho, the Missus wanted to see you! Mister Jung said you could show her around the west wing since he doesn't know if she's seen it. I found her all the way downstairs in the laundry room, so could you help her for a bit? Wannie can make sure no one touches your roses even though no one would willingly mess them up 'cause we all know how much you love them. She's outside, too, hanging up the laundry!" Although I've only known Seulgi for about a week, I can tell she's a bright little thing. Everyone seems to love her here, treating her like she's the baby of the family. Maybe I'll be able to fit into the dynamic, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minho shrugs, agreeing to help me explore; Seulgi returns to the laundry after she makes sure we'll be okay and we begin our little adventure.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>